


bind me up, dress me up (i'm your doll)

by nightofdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cannibalism, Episode: s15e05 Proverbs 17:3, Gen, Gore, Horror, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, When You Have a Love/Hate Relationship With Your God, but before that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:21:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22835452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightofdean/pseuds/nightofdean
Summary: Resurrecting the first woman required something far more visceral and hands on than resurrecting an angel. It necessitated sacrifice, molding, carving a new body out of the heaving skin of the Earth, and a sacrifice of the purest blood.
Relationships: Lilith & Chuck Shurley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	bind me up, dress me up (i'm your doll)

**Author's Note:**

> this came out of me wanting to figure out how chuck brought lilith back without access to the empty so this happened and the rest is just me going bonkers bc both of these characters are bonkers
> 
> p.s. if thou hast questions i am on elderchuck on tumbls

Who was he trying to prove himself to? What was he trying to prove, at all? Love, the human heart, blood gushing warmly over pale hands, fleshy ventricles pumping sluggishly. His own bloodless hands squeezed the soft dirt beneath him, felt dry wind sweep over him. Prone, still knocked down by that slithering piece of humanity inside of him. He moved, blunt fingertips digging into moist dirt, grass dragged along, felt every grain of wet dirt, knew – _that damnable knowledge_ – instantly the journey that dirt had taken to get where it was. Saw earthquakes, volcanos erupting, volcanic ash traveling over continents, sea levels going down as land rose, the whole tired sequence.

Wanted nothing more than to escape this time and place, this existence, but something trapped him in his body. His essence slammed at his flesh body, meat suit, the demons scorned it. Vessels – the archangels declared it – something you sailed across seas from one place to another. Not meant to be trapped in – or at least for those on the deck. Maybe, meat suit, was the more apt description.

Felt the leaden weight of skin and bone clinging to his essence – solidifying the longer the slithering knot of humanity inside of him curled, dug, like a parasite in his being. Now only able to affect this time and space, fingernails, carbon and calcium, dug into the ground and hit rock hard permafrost. Pain shot up his arm, a nervous response – thanks to a perfectly designed central nervous system - signaling that he should stop.

Full senses cut off as they were – the pain, was a small spark compared to the awe-ful wonder of the entire universe at his fingertips. He dug his fingers into the permafrost and scratched and dug and drew blood. A hotly beating heart, ventricles exposed themselves to him, sluggishly pumping black bile, muscle and rotting skin still clung to barely visible ribs poking from under permafrost.

His blood mixed with that of the corpse’s own dead blood the effect immediate as pink flesh began growing back, not all of the half rotten corpse had been uncovered yet. Well, he thought she’d have to wait.

By the time he was done, Lilith’s face was half skull and flesh, blood continuously dripping from her face down to her bare breasts – the right bisected by her exposed heart which still beat hotly in Chuck’s hand. His hands which were nearly shaved down to the bone in his efforts to uncover the unmarked resting place of Lilith.

Lilith sat up, flesh perpetually burnt and healing itself, half healed mouth twisted transforming into an inhuman snarl as she pinned down God with glaucoma sun burnt eyes. Blind as she was, he could feel the hatred in her gaze, the knowing in it though. Of course, Lilith could always see the truth of things.

A dread rose up in his throat but before he could do anything about it, Lilith had lunged at him, ripping and tearing at his jugular – regenerated keratin hard nails sharp as a knife – tore open his throat, severed his carotid. Bone white larynx and hyoid bone exposed, blood gushing bathing Lilith in the life blood as she tore into him, rage palpable in each rend of his flesh. Something deep in her soul pouring out, that spoke of something far more complicated than anger.

Nerve endings on absolute fire protesting at the mutilation – but he wasn’t present. For a minute – because that’s as long as it lasted – he was no longer a passenger in his vessel. He had escaped been violently ripped out, experiencing something other then linear time and space.

“Why am I _here?”_ Lilith rattled out, her own throat partially exposed, could see the muscle pulling and vibrating as she spoke.

He attempted to speak, only managed painful gurgles, blood gushing from his mouth in obscene bubbles and swallowing his own blood. Looked up at Lilith, staring intently back at him, mouth still twisted, teeth turning from rotted yellow and black to white. Lilith squeezed her hands around his neck to staunch the blood flow or restrain his ability to speak he couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. There were other ways of communication.

Her thumb traced the outline of his lower lip, crimson coating soft flesh, shiny red slick poured from corners of his mouth. Lilith took the finger into her mouth, lips sealing around the digit, tasting taking in the purity. A purity that not even vestal virgins and the innocent could provide.

A moan escaped Lilith, rippling through her, as she began licking, sucking, his mouth reddened by blood and fervent and ecstatic kissing. Neck ripped, skin peeled in strips was devoured, ripped and torn by blunt teeth meant for a human with an appetite for plants and animals – not a demon with lust for the flesh. Lilith suckled and ate from his body and drank wine dark blood, and he gave it willingly, all he had, body so close she could sink into his bones, and through the skin of the Earth, the both of them. Worshipping at the altar of themselves.

There were deeper darker purer ways of communicating. Through the worship of body and blood, demons worshipped at the altar of blood, spoke to Lilith in the vestal crimson pulsing blood of virgins. He spoke the language of ritual of the body, kneeling, genuflection, singing vibratos under the light of stained glass. Eventually it was the same in the end.

Blood, wine dark, pouring down throats in servitude – eucharist transubstantiated melting on tongues – flesh gulping down throats bitter and slimy. He told her in not so many words as through feeling and sensation between pain and pleasure and slick crimson blood and torn flesh what he needed. 

“You need me,” she said voice smooth, breath reeking of decay.

“Yes, always,” the bleeding stopped.

She was covered in his blood, bathed in it really, baptized. Lilith stood, looming over him like everyone always did in this form, and extended an arm.

Chuck accepted the hand and stood up, he was also covered in congealing blood, caking to skin and clothes. Lilith naked, risen from her grave, stitched back together, reborn from the skin of the earth and baptized by blood.

“What now?” Lilith said, looking around possibly for danger.

“I end it,” he said, and let Lilith lead the way.


End file.
